


(give in, give in) i want you back

by whyyesitscar



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, post ep. 97
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23085763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyyesitscar/pseuds/whyyesitscar
Summary: beau and jester take time to talk after the party / or: there's something about late nights and fancy outfits that makes everything feel just a little bitmore
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 31
Kudos: 253





	(give in, give in) i want you back

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to get this up before last week's episode but! surprise surprise, i had more feelings than time to write. who knew i could still find new things to feel and write about these two. of course this started as a tumblr prompt that spiraled into something larger, as is my way.
> 
> title + lyrics from "tiger teeth" by walk the moon. 
> 
> please enjoy!

_a tiger in my heart again—  
_ _when you swallow someone whole, you are bound to choke._  
_well, i guess we can never be friends  
_ _(i ate you up the day we first spoke)._

/

“Beau?”

“Mmf.”

“Can you help me take off my dress?”

“Are you kidding; my whole body feels like it’s made of lead right now.”

“Okay, but, I’m so tired—”

“And I’m not?”

“Well, no; I mean, you probably are. But you’re also so nice and so good and so helpfulll…”

“Jes. I love everything you’re saying right now, and I’ll totally help you—but only if you get up first.”

Jester slaps her hands against the bed and curses in Infernal.

“Ha ha, fuck yeah,” Beau smirks.

Fabric rustles as Jester turns on her side. “Okay, well, I can’t sleep as long as I’m dressed, so you’re just going to have to entertain me.”

Beau rolls over to match. “I can do that. Whaddya wanna do?”

“No, see, that’s the whole point of _you_ entertaining _me_ —”

“I know,” Beau grins. “Just wanted to fuck with you a little.”

Jester pushes against her shoulder but it’s so halfhearted that Beau doesn’t even move. “I don’t really want to do anything,” she mutters. “We could just talk.”

Beau swallows. “Uh, sure. Yeah, we can—totally. Let’s just...talk.”

“I just mean, like, _so_ many things have been happening lately and I feel like we’ve been so busy that we haven’t gotten a chance to check in, you know? And we’re usually pretty good about that.”

“Right. Yeah, we are.” Beau clears her throat, watches for Jester to say something, then gets the jump. “How are you doing?”

Jester tilts her head as much as she can while lying sideways on a bed. The admonishment in her eyes only makes Beau smile again. “I don’t know,” she answers slowly. “Like I said, lots of stuff has happened and I haven’t really thought about it too much. Or, well. I haven’t really wanted to, I guess.”

“Why not?”

Jester adjusts herself, slides her hands up under her cheek. “Did you mean what you said to my mom? About the Traveler?”

Beau’s eyebrows shoot all the way into her hairline. “That’s where you wanna _start_?”

“Well, yeah,” Jester huffs. “You’re not gonna talk to me if I start anywhere else.”

“What?”

“That’s what I’m saying, Beau! This has been, like, the craziest week, and so much shit has been going down, and you haven’t talked to hardly anyone about it—”

“Hardly anyone’s talked to _me_ about it! I’m the fuckin’ fragile one here; I’m going through some serious family trauma!”

“Yeah, and you’re taking it all out on _me_!” Jester kicks her feet against the bed, stands up quickly and walks away in one fluid motion. She crosses her arms, back tense and tight, and faces away from Beau. She mumbles something Beau can’t hear but whatever it is, the tone of her voice makes Beau’s heart ooze down to her ankles.

She rolls her eyes and gets up, standing an arm’s length away from Jester.

“I didn’t catch that, Jes.”

Jester sniffles. “You laughed at me, Beau.” She turns around, tears a waterfall down her cheeks. “When I told you my real name, you laughed at me. I’ve known you for almost a whole year and you’ve never _ever_ been mean to me, and I thought I—you were kind of an asshole at the start, you know, but. To everyone except me. This really hurt.”

Beau blushes, even though Jester can’t see it. Probably for the best, really. “I’m sorry, Jester,” she whispers. “I thought—” She shakes her head. “Never mind. It was inexcusable and you don’t need any of my shitty explanations.”

“Thanks.”

Beau takes a chance and walks around Jester to face her. She’s crying, which sucks. Beau is responsible for a good portion of that, she knows, and it’s not just the name thing. They’ve been a little shaky ever since Kamordah.

She sighs and crosses her arms. “Listen, we’re both up anyway. Should we just...put everything on the table?”

“How much is everything?” Jester counters.

Beau huffs out a huge breath as she thinks. “Kamordah, I guess, and the witch. The Traveler. The name thing, if you still want. Essek, maybe? I dunno about that one, but I feel like we can’t just ignore it. And I mean—us, I guess, but that’s…”

Jester leans closer. “That’s what, Beau?”

“It’s—we’ll get there. The other stuff is more important.” Jester cocks her head, glaring, and Beau changes direction. “Not that you’re not important, or that our friendship isn’t but—I don’t...feel like I have to apologize for our friendship?”

Jester’s expression shifts from anger to concern. “But there are things you do think you have to apologize for?”

“Well, sure.” Beau scuffs her toes on the carpet. “I mean, a lot more than usual lately, but I kind of always feel like I should be apologizing. Maybe Fjord flipped a switch or something,” she laughs weakly.

“What would you need to apologize for?”

“I dunno,” Beau shrugs. “You said before; I’m kind of an asshole, so—”

Jester rolls her eyes. “Don’t do that, Beau; I said you used to be. You know you’ve gotten so much better.”

“I guess,” Beau grumbles.

“You _do_ know that, right?”

Jester doesn’t look away; Beau blushes and wishes she would. “Yeah, sure.”

They don’t speak for a few moments—Beau waiting for Jester to change the topic; Jester waiting for Beau to keep talking. Beau would love to expand on that, tell Jester all the different ways she believes it, but she doesn’t want to lie.

“Okay, so, the Traveler,” she says instead. “Let’s talk about him.”

“Okay.”

“I have a problem with the way he treats you,” Beau says bluntly. “To be honest I’ve always been a little bit suspicious, but that’s just kind of my default state, right? I guess I never brought it up because he’s always been a little...absent.”

“He’s always with me,” Jester protests, furrowing her brows.

“No, I know, but that’s in, like, the ‘god’ way. We’ve never met Melora or Kord but at least I knew who they were, you know? And now that I know who the Traveler is…”

“You don’t like him.”

Beau sighs. “Not really, Jes. I’m not saying I never could, but. He’s slippery with the truth.”

“So are you, sometimes.”

“Sure,” Beau nods. “Definitely. But I’m not a god, and you know, that would be a good reason why.”

Jester twists the skin around her middle finger. Beau knows that in a few minutes, she’ll be twisting her tail. “I guess,” she admits. “It is a little confusing, that he never told me who he was even though I’ve known him my whole life.”

“Confusing, sure.” Beau scratches at the back of her neck. This is kind of an impossible conversation to have, because there are so many things she needs to say. It’s just that a lot of them might make Jester mad, or she might take them the wrong way, or—any number of things could go wrong, honestly.

She thinks back to the beginning, way back in Trostenwald when they didn’t know each other and Beau wouldn’t have been bothered by hurting Jester’s feelings. What a few months can do, to completely overhaul someone’s priorities.

“Okay.” Beau expels a large breath and waits until she’s sure Jester is paying attention. “Can I just...say some things without any interruptions and you can tell me how you feel when I’m done? Or yell at me, or whatever.”

“I’m not going to yell at you, Beau.”

“I mean, you just were, Jes. And there’s probably more in there, so…”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Beau waits for more. “Is that okay, like, okay there’s more, or okay I can talk—”

Jester finally smiles. A small one, but it’s there. “You can always talk, Beau. But yes,” she clarifies when Beau rolls her eyes, “I am specifically giving you permission to talk now.”

“Dope, thanks.” Beau backs up until she hits the wall, leans on it and crosses her arms. She thinks about taking off her jacket and vest, but she can only handle emotional or physical exhaustion right now, not both. Jester will always be more important.

“Okay, so.” She crosses one of her ankles over the other and adjusts her shoulders. “I think the Traveler took advantage of you when you were younger. Not like—in a manipulative way, I mean. Not a gross one. But you were lonely and isolated, and he said what you wanted to hear until he was your only friend. He wasn’t around all the time, just enough to make you rely on him for friendship and love. He pulled devotion from you that you might not have given if you’d had any other options. I think he cares for you as much as he can care for anyone, but I don’t think that’s a whole lot, and it isn’t fair that he’s putting so much pressure on you to fix his problems. It’s not fair that he’s dumped TravelerCon on you, I’m not really comfortable with the whole idea of it, and I don’t have a good vibe about what might happen when we get there. He owes you a lot of answers, Jessie, and if I’m being honest, I don’t trust that he’ll ever give them to you.”

“Oh.” The tail is up and in Jester’s hands. “How long have you felt like that?”

Beau narrows her eyes. “Why does it matter?”

“Well, it’s a lot to keep to yourself, Beau. And we’re best friends—you definitely could have told me.”

“I dunno, Jessie. I never felt like I could.”

“What? That’s so silly.”

Beau shrugs. “There are things we’re all sensitive about. For me, it’s my parents; for you, it’s your mom and the Traveler. I never wanted to overstep.”

“You don’t like my mom either?!”

“What? No—”

“Beau, I can’t believe you! What’s wrong with my mom?”

“Hold on, hold on!” Beau holds up her hands to quiet Jester. “We’re getting way sidetracked. Jes, I love your mom. I wish—” She shakes her head, preventing herself from heading down a path of conversation that’s exponentially more dangerous. “I just meant that you have very strong feelings about both of them, that’s all.”

“Oh. Okay.” Jester bunches and pulls at the waist of her dress. “I don’t agree with all of what you said, but…” She sighs and ducks her head. Beau catches the hint of the blush she’s trying to hide. “Maybe you’re not totally wrong, about some things.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Beau straightens up. “Well, how are you feeling then?”

“I don’t _know_ , Beau!” Jester whines. “I love the Traveler so much and he’s mostly always been there and it doesn’t—it feels bad to doubt him, because what if I do and my powers go away?”

“Jes, you’re so much more than anything he gave you. He’s a god because you believed in him so much; do you know how fucking powerful that is?”

“I guess,” Jester mumbles. “But he could have done that for anybody. I guess...I guess I thought I was special, and not just the first person he found.”

Beau pushes herself off the wall and stands in front of Jester, her hands on the tiefling’s bare shoulders. “Jester. You are special, okay? Artagan is special _because_ you’re special, not because he made you that way. He was your first best friend, but do you think just anybody could be his? You changed him first.”

Jester nods weakly. “Pretty nice words for someone who doesn’t like him.”

“Good thing I’m not complimenting him, then.”

Beau doesn’t smile, even though she can tell Jester wants her to. It’s just—she’s never been farther from joking.

Jester puts one of her hands on Beau’s, sniffs back a few tears and steps back. “I don’t understand you sometimes, you know?”

“No. What?” Beau crinkles her eyebrows. “You totally understand me; you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

“Okay, well. Can I ask you something?”

Beau feels her heart rate quicken, though she doesn’t know why. This feels like treacherous territory, full of honesty that maybe she’s not ready to confront yet. She should say no; she wants to say no.

“Sure,” she says instead, because it’s Jester.

“You’re so good at making me feel better and telling me how much you appreciate me. Do you mean it when you do that?”

Beau can’t help scoffing. “Of course.”

“Then why won’t you believe it when we do the same for you?”

Beau’s heart thuds three times, and then she’s pretty sure it stops.

“That’s...I mean—that’s two questions, Jes. Technically,” she adds, in a terrible attempt at humor.

“Beau, I’m being serious.”

“Sure.” She puts her hands in her pockets and shifts her weight, bouncing lightly on her toes. “I believe you. Of course I believe you.”

“No, you don’t. Otherwise you wouldn’t have made that offer to the witch.”

“Jes, we’re done with this, okay; I said I wouldn’t leave—”

“We are _not_ done with this, Beau. I hardly said anything about it.” Jester’s tone is deep and dangerous; Beau wouldn’t have heard it if there were any other sound in the room. She wishes there was, really. Beau hasn’t felt an overwhelming urge to run since her offer to the witch, but it’s starting to creep up her legs.

“You don’t—Fjord and Caleb had that pretty covered…”

“Fjord and Caleb said nice things and then you agreed quickly to get them to stop talking. But they didn’t get through to you.” Jester looks up, her eyes full of tears but so bright Beau can hardly look at them for more than a few seconds. “I know you wouldn’t take it back. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been lately.”

“How I’ve—pfft, I haven’t been any—I’m fine, Jes, really.”

“You’ve been loud and impulsive and sometimes mean and I get it, Beau. If you remind us of all of the worst parts of you, maybe we wouldn’t miss you so much when you leave.” Jester puts her hands on her hips, and Beau is reminded of all the times she was scolded at the monastery. “Do you still think about that, do you have a plan for it?”

“I have plans for lots of things, Jes. The monks taught me how to be one step ahead of everything.”

Jester shakes her head. “That’s what I don’t understand, Beau. Why plan for a step you might not even have to take?”

“Okay, sure.” Beau throws out her arms, defensive and dismissive. “Maybe it’s something I don’t end up doing. But what if I’m forced into it; what if we get separated for a while, or—”

“That’s not when you rely on your plan for leaving, Beau; that’s when you rely on your plan for coming back!” Jester lets her words hang for a few long moments. Her voice, when it returns, is small and scared. “Do you have one of those?”

“For sure I do,” Beau says immediately. But her response is too quick and anger fills Jester’s eyes again. Beau wilts. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Jes. I haven’t ever had anything to come back to before.”

“Maybe not before us,” Jester concedes, “but definitely after. It’s not like we just became a group yesterday.”

“No, I know, but—” She takes a deep breath, pushes down the urge to vault out of the window and climb up to the roof. For all she complained when Jester was helping set it up, Beau never thought she’d miss their stupid tree so much. Somehow the fact that it’s the roof of Jester’s home she’d be climbing onto makes her want to do it less.

She settles for sitting on the bed, crossing her legs as close as she can. “I haven’t ever—goodbyes are hard for me,” she admits. “Not that I wanted to say one to my parents, but even if I had I never got the chance, and I ran away from the Cobalt Soul. Dairon basically had to beat me into getting back to work. And then Molly…” Beau sighs and pretends not to notice Jester stiffen. “I should have talked to him more; I should have talked about him more, you know—after.” She swallows around the lump in her throat. “Any kind of exit you can control is the best kind, right? That’s all I wanted.”

Jester nods, brings her fingers to her eyes to catch tears without ruining her makeup. The gesture squeezes Beau’s heart in a way she wasn’t prepared for—Jester will have to wash her face eventually. Perhaps the futility of it is what hurts.

“If we’re talking about hypothetical situations,” Jester murmurs, “can I put one out there?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Let’s say everything goes fine and we make it through the peace talks, and TravelerCon, and we kill Trent and stop Tharizdun at least for a little bit and there’s no war and we get to a point where we don’t have anything left to fix. Do you think we’re all going to leave each other?”

“Absolutely.” Beau barely lets Jester finish speaking before she answers.

“And if we do that, what, we just stop talking to each other? Forever?”

Beau fidgets on the bed. “I mean, you know, not at first. But Veth has a family, Caduceus has a home to save and family to be with again. People always drift eventually.”

“What about Caleb, or Fjord? Yasha doesn’t really have anyone but us; do you think she’d leave again?”

Beau shrugs. “A bunch of shit could happen, Jes. If we rid the Assembly of Trent and his minions, that probably takes out a few professors at the Academy, which leaves spots open for Caleb. Fjord’s got a whole fucking ship now and I can tell he misses the ocean, even if there’s a huge squid or whatever trying to eat him. Yasha...I don’t think she’s really learned how to stay somewhere yet. Wouldn’t take a whole lot to unlearn it.”

“A bunch of shit _could_ happen, Beau,” Jester echoes. “Why don’t you believe that a world where we all stay together is possible? Do you really think that little of us?”

“Are you kidding?” Beau tilts her head up, blinks to push back any feelings that crop up because it’s late and she’s tired and definitely no other reason. “I think the world of you, Jes. I mean, you know—all of you. You’re the best people I’ve ever known.”

Jester sighs, louder and more insistent than before. She’s seconds away from tapping her foot. “You don’t—you’re so frustrating sometimes, Beau. You’re so—you’re _so_ sweet to me, and you’re always the first one to support Caleb or Fjord when they’re having a hard time, and you don’t judge anyone for real, even when Nott drinks too much or Yasha actually stabs you almost all the way to death. And you say these things that—if I said them, you wouldn’t question me, right? Because, oh, _that’s just how Jester is; she loves everyone_ , or _Jester’s so nice, of course that’s what she thinks._ ” Foot tapping becomes a stomp or two, and Beau sits up straighter. “You love everyone too, Beau,” Jester continues. “We can all see it. We all feel it. But it’s like—it’s like you don’t believe yourself.”

“Well. I mean, I don’t.”

Jester rolls her eyes. “God, that’s so—it’s so stupid, Beau!”

Beau hauls herself off the bed and pulls at her collar, which frustratingly barely moves. “Why? What’s so bad about self-preservation, about making sure I don’t get hurt? If I care for everyone so much, why can’t I care for myself?”

“Of course you can care for yourself, Beau; that’s not what I’m saying. But you—”

“That’s how Molly lived, right: leave every place better than you found it. That’s all I’m trying to do, Jes. I love you guys, you love me, and one day I’ll have to leave.”

Jester expels a breath through her nose so forcefully that Beau can see the trails of frost it leaves in the air. “We wouldn’t be better because you loved us, Beau! We would be worse because you left!”

“That’s not—fuck,” she mutters, looking down. She swipes an arm roughly across her eyes, batting away the tears that have pushed past her efforts to keep them down. “These last few months have been a dream,” she says, “even the awful parts. My life before you guys was—I mean, you saw it. That was a shitty house to grow up in, and they didn’t exactly send me off hoping I’d come back the kid they wanted. The monks were fine, I guess, but I could never shake my dad’s shadow, or whatever. And then you guys—” Beau scratches the sides of her head until she can feel the red marks, pulls at her collar again with shaking fingers. “Sometimes I get lost in it, you know? When we’re here at your mom’s, or just chilling at home; sometimes I feel like everything will stay like this. But then—we have to keep fighting and people die or betray us, and there are so many problems we have to fix, and there’s no way we can fix them all, Jes. There’s just no way. The longer I spend here…” Beau fiddles with the buttons on her shirt, doing everything she can to ignore the pounding in her chest, in her throat and her cheeks and everywhere. “You make me want things I can’t have,” she says, thick and warbly. “I can’t—god, I can’t—these fucking buttons—”

Jester is in front of her in a flash, prying Beau’s hands away from her shirt. “Okay, it’s okay.” She kisses each of Beau’s hands before putting them on her shoulders. “Leave these here, okay? I’ll work on your shirt.”

Beau listens to Jester breathe and she slowly and gently undoes her buttons. She tries to match her rhythm but it’s hard when she’s barely taking in any air to begin with. Her fingertips are white against Jester’s shoulders, squeezing her skin harder than necessary. Beau relaxes her hands, flexes and curls them into fists until they don’t feel as stiff. She brings her thumbs down to rest on Jester’s collarbones—her pulse isn’t as steady as her breathing. Beau isn’t sure if she’s just dizzy or if she really hears Jester gasp, just a little bit.

Jester pulls Beau’s shirt out of her pants, smooths it straight and lets it hang, open without being revealing. She peels Beau’s jacket off and makes quick work of Beau’s tie, sliding it down until it falls on the floor.

Beau may as well be naked.

“Are you a little calmer, at least?” Jester whispers.

Beau can only nod and hope Jester is looking. She inhales a breath that’s still shaky but sits in her lungs longer than the ones before. “Your turn,” she murmurs. Her voice is hoarser than she’d like but her legs feel solid again, and she walks around to Jester’s other side, never lifting her hands. She slides down to hover over Jester’s shoulder blades, one hand finding the small zipper on her dress.

Jester’s skin is beautiful in the moonlight. It’s a thought Beau’s had many times, so many of them within the last week. But it seems different right now, seeing Jester from a point of view she doesn’t usually get. The way the pink of her dress brightens her skin, accented by the glitter of her tattoo. Beau stands closer and she can see over Jester’s shoulder, how heavily she’s breathing; how that breathing changes every time Beau touches her somewhere different. Beau is sure the entire floor can hear the drone of the zipper as she drags it down Jester’s back.

Neither of them move when she’s done. Jester catches the dress under her arms but her grip isn’t very strong, and Beau can see how close it is to falling. She leans against the back of Jester’s head as her hands wander to Jester’s arms, back to her shoulders, to the nape of her neck, into her hair.

Jester brings a hand around to rest on top of Beau’s. “I notice, Beau,” she breathes. “When you’re not here, I notice.” She shivers. Beau feels like she’s on fire. “I would never, _ever_ be better without you.”

She tries to stop it, but some kind of noise gurgles at the back of Beau’s throat. She nods again, taps her fingers against the back of Jester’s neck. They’re at a turning point, she can feel it, and standing still is no longer an option. She can feel the urge to step back climbing; her ankle feels like it’s being pulled with the tide.

Beau pushes forward, presses a kiss behind Jester’s ear, and drowns.

Jester spins around immediately, finding Beau’s lips with her own. Her dress falls and Beau would care about that but Jester’s hands are everywhere, scratching at the stubble of Beau’s hairline, pressing low against her back. She slides them under Beau’s shirt, between her breasts and up her spine, and it isn’t the coolness of her fingers that makes Beau gasp. It’s the nearness of her, the fullness of Jester’s lips and her stomach, the way every part of her is something Beau can sink into. Beau wraps her arm around Jester, envelops her and pulls her as close as two people can possibly be. She kisses her through tears, through the walls that Jester was the first one to break.

Jester pulls away and waits, her hand sturdy on Beau’s stomach. Beau absently adjusts her head when Jester curls into her neck. She smiles at the tickle of Jester’s tail on her feet.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t care, Jes,” she whispers. “Guess there are some things Fjord still has to teach me, huh?” She doesn’t really mean it when she laughs, but Beau isn’t sad anymore either.

“Fjord never taught you how to love, Beau,” Jester mumbles, her voice muffled against Beau’s skin, “just how to show it.”

“Oh.”

“And, you know. I’d say you’ve gotten pretty good at it.”

“I dunno, I could probably be better.”

“Well.” Jester’s tail bounces playfully off of Beau’s calf. “Stick around and I’ll help you.”

Beau laughs, long enough that it doesn’t sound like she’s about to cry again. “Yeah, I guess I have to. Otherwise, who’s gonna help you get your dresses off?”

“That’s really all I wanted,” Jester teases. “But you had to make it so _dramatic_.”

Beau chuckles again, takes a deep breath and squeezes Jester’s shoulder. She looks down, finally meets Jester’s gaze and it’s like they’re seeing each other for the first time or something. Beau can see every freckle on Jester’s cheeks, every tear on her eyelashes, every sigh she has bottled up. Beau wants to kiss her until she hears every one of them.

She sweeps her hand across Jester’s forehead instead, tucking a lock of hair behind her ears. Jester closes her eyes and leans into her touch, and if Beau knew a lick of magic, she would stop time right here.

“I love you,” Jester whispers. “Right now and tomorrow and basically since the day we met.”

Beau smiles and doesn’t try to stop the tears this time. She tilts Jester’s chin up and kisses her—because she’s there, because she can, because it’s Jester. She leans her forehead against Jester’s when she pulls away, chuckles when she bumps into a horn.

Jester is warm and strong in her arms, and Beau is in love.

That’s enough, is probably what Jester has been trying to say.

Beau squeezes her closer.

“Love you, too, Jes.”


End file.
